The Lord Of The Diaries
by The Cuckoo Crew
Summary: Harry and his friends must embark on a dangerous and perilous journey to destroy the One Diary, forged by the Dark Lord Voldemort, in the waters of Moaning Myrtle's toilet...
1. Prologue: One Diary To Rule Them All

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the new and revised edition of The Lord of the Diaries. We realise that it was been a VERY long time since we last updated, and we would like to apologise to our wonderful readers for this. Hopefully, this new version will be updated a lot more frequently, and should hopefully be a lot better. Enjoy!   
  


**The Lord Of The Diaries: The Fellowship Of The Diary  
Cast List **  
  
Frodo Baggins - Harry Potter   
Samwise Gamgee - Ron Weasley   
Meriadoc Brandybuck - Fred Weasley   
Peregrin Took - George Weasley   
Aragorn - Severus Snape  
Gandalf - Albus Dumbledore   
Legolas Greenleaf - Gilderoy Lockhart   
Gimli - Rubeus Hagrid   
Boromir - Sirius Black  
Sauron - Lord Voldemort  
Gollum - Kreacher  
Saruman - Lucius Malfoy   
Lord Elrond - Alastor Moody   
Galadriel - Winky   
Celeborn - Dobby  
Rosie Cotton - Hermione Granger  
Faramir - Remus Lupin  
Denethor - Cornelius Fudge   
Farmer Maggot - Argus Filch   
Gwaihir - Fawkes   
Black Riders - Dementors  
Shelob - Aragog  
  


Oh, and Dementors are Black Riders because the idea is that every time Harry gets near the Dementors he begins to feel miserable, giving him a sudden desire to open the One Diary and seek comfort from Tom Riddle. :D We had more characters than that, I'm sure, but I can't remember any. The rest will probably be added later on in the story. Now... it's time to start the story!

**The Lord of the Diaries  
Prologue **

  


The world is changed. Winky is feeling it the soup. Winky is feeling it in the sausages. Winky is smelling it in the kitchen. Much that Winky one knew is lost, for she has a bad, bad memory. But Winky remembers that it begins with the forging of the Luxury Diaries. 

Three diaries is given to the Ravenclaws. They is the fairest and hardest-working of all beings. Seven diaries is given to the Hufflepuffs. They is worst at English, so there is no point in giving Diaries to the Hufflepuffs, but the diary forgers is not thinking clearly. And nine. Nine diaries is given to the Muggles, who above all else, is desiring magical power. 

Into these Diaries is the power to be ruling and governing each race. But they is all of them being deceived. For another Diary is made... 

In the Chamber of Secrets, in the waters of the U-bend toilet, the Dark Lord, whose name we is not speaking is forging a Master Diary. Into this Diary, You-Know-Who is pouring his soul, his cruelty, and his will to bewitch the mind. 

One Diary to rule them all. 

One by one, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is pouring his memories into the Diary. He is enchanting it, bewitching it, pouring his soul into it. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is wanting to use his powers to take over the wizarding world. 

But one day, he is trying to kill the baby boy Harry Potter, and he is failing miserably... 

The killing curse is rebounding off the little baby, and it is backfiring on You-Know-Who himself. Some say You-Know-Who is dying when this is happening... some say he is not dying... some say he is just gone to the toilet... who is knowing which one of these is correct? The point Winky is making is, You-Know-Who is gone. 

The Diary is being passed on from person to person, and it is somehow ending up with the house-elf Kreacher, who is taking it deep into the depths of his grimy little cupboard. And there, it is enchanting him. The Diary is bringing to Kreacher endless pleasure, for it is said that Tom Riddle, the soul of the Diary, is a wonderful penpal. For 10 years, Riddle is bewitching little Kreacher's mind, and in the grime of Kreacher's cupboard, it is waiting... 

The Diary is somehow falling into the hands of the great wizard Filius Flitwick. Winky is not able to give a feasible reason for the Diary getting to Flitwick, but all she is knowing is that the Diary is going to Flitwick for the purpose of the plot. Flitwick is not trusting the Diary. He is not using it or liking. But he is keeping it all the same – once again, for plot purposes. 

Little does he know that that Diary is waiting... waiting for its master to be writing in it once more... 


	2. The Diary

Harry Potter sat in a large armchair in the Gryffindor common room, absorbed in his book, 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire'.  
  
"Moody - an imposter - no!" he gasped. "What an unexpected twist! You know," he said, turning to his best friends Ron and Hermione, "I can't believe I've never read these Harry Potter books before – they're brilliant."  
  
"Hmm," said Ron thoughtfully, "the name Harry Potter sounds oddly familiar to me..."  
  
"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, RON! STOP BEING SUCH A STUPID PRAT!" Hermione flared suddenly. To be honest, the name 'Harry Potter' did sound uncannily familiar; she just argued with Ron about anything and everything to keep up the sexual tension between them.  
  
"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts..._"  
  
"What's that?" Harry asked. Ron and Hermione shrugged, and went back to shooting each other filthy looks. "It must be Dumbledore!" Harry cried happily. "I've been expecting him any minute now!"  
  
"Why?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Honestly, Hermione, JUST BE QUIET!" Ron screamed at her - a rather ingenious act, Harry thought, as it cleverly and slyly distracted the reader from the fact that he, Harry, had absolutely no reason at all to be expecting Dumbledore... oh no, wait. Harry mentally cursed the running commentary on his thoughts.  
  
He glanced out of the window and, sure enough, a tiny speck in the distance was getting closer and closer. Dumbledore came crashing into the room through the window, head first, shattering shards of glass everywhere. He was wearing dark sunglasses and a long, shiny leather jacket.  
  
"Trinity!" he gasped. "Trinity, _where are you_?"  
  
"Er... Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"Oh - erm, hello, you three," he greeted, casting aside his leather jacket and sunglasses. "How are you?"  
  
Without bothering to wait for an answer, he grabbed some Floo powder from the mantelpiece and threw it into the grate, where it erupted into a mass of flames.  
  
"Yoooo-hoooo! Filius!" Dumbledore called.  
  
Professor Flitwick emerged in the fire, and stumbled out. His usually white hair was black and charred and his robes were on fire.  
  
"Stupid cheap Floo powder," Dumbledore muttered under his breath.  
  
"STOP, DROP AND ROLL!" someone screamed.  
  
In an instant, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore ran to the flaming professor, knocked him to the ground, and began rolling him furiously around the common room. Once the flames had fully died down, they stopped and helped him up.  
  
"Well, Filius," started Dumbledore, "don't you have something to say to Harry?"  
  
He gave the tiny professor a meaningful look.  
  
"Yes, I do," Flitwick squeaked. Then, as if he had memorised the liness of by heart, he said, "Harry, I would like to give you something."  
  
As he spoke, he extracted from the depths of his charred robes, a... diary!  
  
"Oh, er, thanks," Harry said. "But... why are you giving this to _me_?"  
  
"Shhhh," Dumbledore whispered to Harry. "It's for the plot. Professor Flitwick's the only one who was suitable enough to play Bilbo."  
  
"Bilbo? Professor Dumbledore, who is Bil--"  
  
"SHHHH!" Dumbledore hissed furiously. "Don't ask questions."  
  
Harry took the diary and examined it closely. Dumbledore gave Flitwick a meaningful look.  
  
"Oh yes!" Flitwick squeaked, as if he had suddenly recalled something. His manner abruptly changed, and he gave Harry an almost malevolent look. He stretched a tiny hand out to the diary and hissed, "_My precious..._"  
  
Harry was thoroughly scared by this and was about to place the diary back into Flitwick's palm when Dumbledore suddenly spoke.  
  
"Filius Flitwick! _Do not take me for some conjuror of cheap tricks!_" he boomed.  
  
"What?" Harry exclaimed. "This is making no sense whatsoever!"  
  
"Shhh, Harry!" Ron and Hermione were both watching the scene, transfixed, sharing a large tub of popcorn – _buttery_ popcorn. It seemed that they had temporarily laid aside their differences.  
  
"Well, that's my business here over," Flitwick squeaked, turning back into his usual cheery self. He merrily waved goodbye and left.  
  
"Farewell, dear Filius," Dumbledore said solemnly.

-------------

The next day, Dumbledore announced that he was leaving.  
  
"All right – but why?" Harry asked.  
  
"Dunno – just feel like it. Why? You gotta a problem with that? Huh? Do ya? Do ya? DO YA? Good."  
  
"But... but," Ron spluttered, "you can't go now! Don't you want to know what happens in Friends? It's the one after Ross says the wrong name at the altar! You can't miss _that_ one!"  
  
"You're right, Ron," Dumbledore said seriously. "I don't know what I was thinking. I can't miss _that_ episode."  
  
After Friends had finished, Dumbledore left.  
  
"Remember, Harry, keep it secret, keep it safe," were his parting words. He had said them mainly because they made him sound solemn and important, but also because he liked enigmatic little sayings like that.

-------------

_Tune in to the next chapter, for more crazy, random fun!_


	3. Is it Secret, is it Safe?

Yes, we know. It's been a long time. We're sorry. For pity's sake, HAVE MERCY! If you're one of our luurvely readers from before, I suggest you go back and read the chapters prior to this one, as we've made some changes. :)

**Disclaimer:** We do not own ze wonderful, ze magnificent Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They are owned by JK Rowling and JRR Tolkien respectively.

------------------

Dumbledore paced around his office. The diary that was now in Harry's possession was troubling him greatly. He sat down at his desk, and stared down at his hands, thinking hard...

Seventeen years later, he decided to do something about it. He went to Google.com and typed in "Diary". A few hours later, he had read through pages and pages of information about the Diary, and had found some very interesting sources, including Kreacher's Livejournal. Dumbledore skipped through the dull bits of it, till he finally found an interesting entry.

_Kreacher is missing his Own, his Love, his Precious. The Precious was belonging to my mistress, but Kreacher is taking the Diary from her shelf, or else her nasty little son will find it first. Then, Kreacher is writing every day to Tom Riddle. He is Kreacher's best buddy. He is always thoughtful, and so kind to Kreacher. Tom is always writing to Kreacher even when Kreacher is not writing to him, but then Tom is stopping. Now, writing is only appearing if ink is being thrown over the Precious._

"Yes!" cried Dumbledore, punching his fist into the air. "We get to do some art work!"

_But, one day, Kreacher is losing the Diary. Stupid, idiotic Kreacher! Kreacher's Precious is lost forever! Kreacher is wanting his Tommy back. Stupid Kreacher! Kreacher is a disgrace to the family! What would mistress think if she is knowing that Kreacher is losing the Diary? Oh, the shame!_

_Anyway, Kreacher is saying goodnight now. If you is wanting to talk to Kreacher, you is able to contact me on AIM. Goodnight, Precious the Second._

_P.S. Kreacher is not liking Harry Potter._

"Ah, a nice little piece of information for Harry!" said Dumbledore, before closing the Livejournal.

------------------

Harry had just started reading 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' when suddenly all the lights went out, leaving him in total darkness.

"Huh? What happened to the lights?" he cried.

He had just made a movement towards the light switch, when Dumbledore suddenly grabbed him on the shoulder and started singing 'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts' again.

"Dumbledore!" groaned Harry. "Do you _have _to sing that all the time?"

"Oh, hello, Harry!" said Dumbledore, as if he hadn't noticed him before. He could vaguely remember that he had something important to say to Harry. "Oh, yeah!" he cried, as he suddenly remembered.

He grabbed Harry again, and in a hushed, frantic whisper, said, "Is it secret? Is it safe?"

Harry was puzzled for a second.

"Dumbledore, have you been sniffing Neville's socks again?" he questioned sternly.

"No!" said Dumbledore, offended.

"Well, what are you talking about then?"

"Guess."

"Wouldn't it be easier if you just told me?" said Harry, rather exasperated by Dumbledore's antics.

"Well, yes, but that would spoil the great mystery of it all..." Dumbledore's voice suddenly turned wistful and dreamy. "My dear Harry, do you not enjoy the the thrill of guesswork, the disappointment of an incorrect guess, the endless hours of fun..."

He went on about the joys of guessing games for some time that Harry began to feel afraid; very afraid.

"All right, fine, Dumbledore!" he interjected. "Um... a wand?"

"No."

"A Sneakoscope?"

"No."

"A biscuit?"

"No."

_Several hours later..._

"Harry, maybe it _would_ be easier if I just told you..." Dumbledore suggested. He had begun to grow very tired of this.

"No!" exclaimed Harry, looking scandalised. "It _just _got exciting, Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore sighed and said, "Well, at least let me give you a clue, then."

"Okay," Harry agreed.

"Right..." said Dumbledore slowly, thinking hard. "Yes! I've thought of one!" he said, suddenly. "It's the diary."

"Dumbledore! You just told me!" Harry said, angrily.

"Oh... did I? I'm so sorry, Harry. Well, you can't blame little old me. My brain's not as alert as it was before..."

"And which diary are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Which diary am I talking about?" Dumbledore repeated faintly. "The one I gave you for your birthday, of course!"

"Ohh ... _that _diary," said Harry, fetching it from the kitchen. "What about it?"

Dumbledore snatched the diary from Harry, grabbed an ink bottle, and flung the contents of it over the diary.

"_My precioussss_!" howled Harry. "I mean... my presentttt! What _are _you doing, Dumbledore? Have you lost it?"

"Take it, Harry," Dumbledore said in his deep voice, as if he hadn't heard Harry's last comment. "Be careful, though - it is quite wet."

Harry took the diary, and examined it. The ink was slowly dissolving away.

"Tell me, Harry, what do you see?" asked Dumbledore quietly.

"Wait a second!" Harry squealed, delighted. "The ink has gone! And strange words are appearing! I can't read it - it's some form of Blubberish!"

"The language is that of the Toilet, which is far too ribald for me to utter here. In the common tongue it says:

_One Diary to bring Riddle back to power,_

_One Diary to stop his milk from getting sour,_

_In Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where the water lays on the floor in great huge messy puddles and when you step on them your shoes will get all wet and if they aren't made of leather you'll get wet socks._"

"A poetic masterpiece..." Harry sighed, dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. "Well, what does it _mean_, Dumbledore?"

"It means that this Diary has the power to bring _Lord Voldemort_ back to power!" Dumbledore sad dramatically.

"But ... Voldemort was destroyed. His curse rebounded off my head, remember?"

"_No_, Harry," said Dumbledore slowly, softly and very dramatically. "The Diary survived and Voldemort's life was bound to the Diary."

Harry looked shocked and started slapping himself to make sure that this was really going on. Then he had a really clever idea. "All righty-o then! We hide the diary, never speak of it again, so that in general, no one knows it's here! Sound good?"

"But there is one who knows the Diary is in your possession."

"_Who?_"

"I looked everywhere for the creature Kreacher, but the enemy found him first... they offered to buy him lunch if he told them where the Diary was. And, of course, he couldn't resist the offer... who could?" Dumbledore asked sadly.

"But... the enemy... they'll be on their way here soon! Take the Diary, Dumbledore!" Harry cried, holding it out to him. "You must take it!"

"Sorry, nothing doing," Dumbleore said leisurely. "It's _your_ problem now."

Suddenly, from a dark corner of the room, came an odd, clicking sound. Dumbledore gestured to Harry to keep quiet, and then looked furtively from left to right, before proceeding on tiptoes towards the noise. The Mission Impossible theme played in the background...


End file.
